


Foxfire

by Druddigonite



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Basically the entire story is symbolism and it's not even subtle, Bede tries to raise an eevee, Gen, Symbolism, The Bede character growth we've all been waiting for, Though not really bc I'm a bad writer, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:34:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21709816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Druddigonite/pseuds/Druddigonite
Summary: Opal presses the pokeball into Bede’s arms, all disapproval and no-nonsense. ‘This eevee’s got some spunk in him still, and he needs a true trainer to help him grow into it. Show me your ability to bring pokemon beyond their full potential, and I will make you gym leader.’He takes it; the scratches on it bite into his skin like a pact, and he shoots her a cocky smile through the pain. “I promise to exceed your expectations, ma’am.”Of trust, letting go, and learning how to breathe.
Relationships: Beet | Bede & Opal, Poplar | Opal & Beet | Bede
Comments: 22
Kudos: 192





	1. Let it be known:

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](https://thecrowsjoker.tumblr.com/post/189300728129/pokemon-sword-and-shields-bede). 
> 
> I've taken the liberty to change some things with Bede's development so the flow seems more natural (didn't like his dialogue during the championships circuit). Also this is now a three-part because I have no self-restraint

Opal, Bede thinks, is way too perceptive for her own good. 

‘When you’ve been with pokemon for as long as I am,’ she says, sipping her morning tea too calmly to justify the gravity of her words, ‘you begin to notice things. Like how a trainer’s pokemon tend to emulate them. Fairies especially, since they’re so attuned to our emotions.’

Bede simply raises his eyebrow. He’s in the process of calming down his seething hatterene, all raised hair and psychic energy. While hatterenes aren’t exactly known for their level-headedness, his has a bigger temper than most, and lashes out at anyone who has anything more than jittery nerves. Her sensitivity to emotion has only amplified when she evolved.

Hatterene adores him though, Bede thinks as he affectionately scratches her head. And she respects Opal enough to never bother her. 

“Hatterene’s still getting used to her evolution. I’ll isolate her in the Glimwood Tangle if she kicks up a fuss, but she just needs time to adjust, that’s all.” he says. 

Opal looks at him with her piercing gaze, the same one she always uses whenever he talks about his time with Chairman Rose and Oleanna. Suddenly self-conscious, Bede pulls up the neck of his jacket and averts his eyes. “What? Weren’t you the one that said patience is a virtue?”

‘Yes, but if a trainer wanders the wild areas without a path, they can spend decades in the tall grass and never earn a single badge.’ Opal sighed, reaching for her cane (he doesn’t know why she has that thing, he’s seen her walk perfectly fine without it) and hobbling out the door of their house. ‘It’s almost your birthday, isn’t it child.’

“I have no idea when my birthday is.” 

‘Well, tomorrow's your birthday now,’ Opal says breezily, her voice a distant twinkle, ‘And I believe I know just what to get you.’

* * *

Bede forgets about the entire ordeal soon enough. Living with Opal has made him immune to most of her eccentricities, ever since she forcefully stole custody of him because he’s, in her words, “pink”. 

When he gets up from bed the next morning, however, he finds a small gift box wrapped in shiny paper and glittering with faerie dust. He eyes it warily; there’s been a plague of impidimp pranks lately, and the last thing he needs is to start his training with his voice two octaves higher than usual. 

The living room is quiet, lit by nothing but the faint glow of mushrooms that have sprouted between the floorboards. Opal sits at their dining table, sipping her tea and reading the news. Without her makeup, ruff, and hat on, she looks so incredibly small. Bede’s heard from the townspeople how she held auditions for a new gym leader, how desperate she was for a successor. 

‘Morning, dear. Have you noticed my present yet?’ 

So it was Opal who put the present there. Bede’s disturbed that she very likely snuck into his room while he was sleeping just so he can wake up to his present. (Or maybe she made one of her pokemon do it instead. The idea is even more unsettling.) “I have. I thought it was from an impidimp so I left it where it is.”

‘Good call. It doesn’t hurt to exercise a little caution when it comes to fairies.’ Opal’s polteageist, the one from her trainer days that’s long retired from battling, gathers up the plates and places them in the sink. ‘Bring it here then. I need to discuss your candidacy for my gym leadership.’ 

After Bede retrieves the present, Opal tells him to open it. Inside is a pokeball. The exterior is scratched, the release button worn down to a nub of what it should be. Bede knows right away that who ever owned this before never took proper care of it. 

Bede runs his thumb around the edge of a deep scratch, uncertain. 

Opal gives him a nod of approval, so with bated breath he tosses it. A male eevee pops out and immediately backs into the corner of the room. 

“Hey little guy, I’m your new trainer.” Bede crouches on the ground so his size wouldn’t intimidate the pokemon, and extends his hand. The eevee’s ears are pressed flat against his head, eyes wide in terror. Bede makes the mistake of shifting; his golden watch slides right off his wrist and clatters loudly onto the floor. The eevee startles badly.

“Wait! I-” But the eevee is already gone, fleeing into Bede’s bedroom, running into a table leg in his panic. Bede bites the inside of his cheek in annoyance.

‘He was given to me after his trainer surrendered him,’ Opal says, watching him as he slips on the watch with a huff, “She was a gym challenger that couldn’t get past one of the gyms. Kabu’s, I think.” 

Surrendering or releasing pokemon is a common practice in Galar, mostly from trainers whose dreams of defeating the unbeatable champion fell through. Bede has released a few pokemon himself, now that he’s transitioned from a psychic to faerie type specialist. His duosion and gothorita are living happily in the Glimwood Tangle, and visit him occasionally. They've worked hard. They deserve this retirement.

But that was releasing. In order to surrender, your pokemon has to be ineligible for release—meaning that they’re either too weak or have issues that make them incompatible with surviving in the wild. Looking at Eevee, he can understand why. 

“He must not be good enough then.” 

Opal’s lips thin, and Bede suppresses a shiver as he feels Polteageist’s gaze on him. ‘That’s a load of poppycock, what you just said. Whether a pokemon is ‘good enough’ does not depend on the pokemon, but its trainer.’ 

She presses the pokeball into Bede’s arms, all disapproval and no-nonsense. ‘This eevee’s got some spunk in him still, and he needs a true trainer to help him grow into it. Show me your ability to bring pokemon beyond their full potential, and I will make you gym leader.’

He takes it; the scratches on it bite into his skin like a pact, and he shoots her a cocky smile through the pain. “I promise to exceed your expectations, ma’am.”

* * *

Bede enjoys Opal’s company. He really does. Opal actually remembers his name—even if she insists on calling him ‘child’ more often than not—and she usually gives a clear outline of what she expects from him: keep your own room clean, take out the trash, feed and play with your pokemon daily, don’t be kidnapped by anyone other than her. Her training methods range from sensible to did-you-ask-Alcremie-to-Sweet-Kiss-you-and-then-write-down-ideas-you-told-me-you-did-this-once-and-I’ve-never-trusted-you-again. 

No, it was the way she acted like she was more than Bede’s mentor. Like the day she bought him a pile of new clothes that somehow all fit, or that one time she fussed over him when he got a cold, or all those pats on his shoulder and hugs like she’s his grandmother. 

Like family. 

She’s also taken to complimenting him for doing menial tasks, like his pokeball throw (he literally just tosses it) or that one time he did all the laundry without her asking. He doesn’t know whether to feel insulted she has such a shallow view of him, or wary in case she’s buttering him up as the perfect grandson. After all, he’s learned from experience that nobody would be nice to a guy like him, not without interior motives. 

After living for months on the move, he had expected sedentary life to be boring. But it isn't. 

He doesn't miss the exhausting treks between towns, always on the move in case a wild pokemon decided to wipe them out. He doesn't miss waking up each morning worried about if he'd be able to afford his next meal (besides Rose's endorsement, the man didn't provide much else). Here, he has tasted routine and security and stuck around.

Routine and security is also what he'll focus on in the first stage of bonding with Eevee. When Opal is out in a meeting, Bede locks himself in his room and gently releases Eevee.

He materializes on the bed, curled into a ball and snoring softly. 

Bede studies him. Eevee's fur is matted and his claws overgrown, but otherwise he isn’t weak, just lacks talent. As much as Bede prides himself on being the best trainer, even he can’t bring miracles. With Eevee, he can still make Opal proud.

He didn't notice Eevee was awake until the pokemon let out a surprised squeak, twisting under the bed. Bede's ears warm. He probably scared the eevee when it woke up to a huge face staring at him. 

"Hey it's okay, you're safe here." Bede cooes, extending his hand. Years of training Hatterene have made him a master at calming agitated pokemon. Eevee gives a wary sniff, before darting back under the shadows of the bed.

"Here, I brought you something tasty." He rolls a pecha berry under the bed. Untouched. "Not a fan? How about this?" A cheri berry bounces to a stop beside it.

A face appears, it large, soulful eyes staring straight at Bede. Eevee takes a tentative bite of the cheri, then another, immune to the spicy taste that would’ve driven many pokemon away. As he eats, Bede reaches out and scratches the soft down on the back of his ears, and is surprised to feel him purring quietly. 

As if he was reading Bede’s mind, Eevee lurches around with a horrified expression, and the faerie-type trainer couldn’t get his hand away fast enough. 

“Ow!” Bede swears quietly as he clutches his bitten hand, blood blooming dark on pale skin. Eevee is long gone, the half-eaten cheri berry staining the floor with juice. He yanks out a pokeball and returns him. 

“Stingy little bastard.”

* * *

Bede is nothing if not persistent, however. 

He lets him out in the living room this time, Kirlia at his side. She had expressed an interest in meeting their new team member, and is happy to help. 

The two are currently having a conversation under the table, Kirlia talking most of the time and Eevee punctuating with indignant "vee!"s. Bede tries to approach, but Kirlia shoots him a warning glare and he stays put.

Eevee looks better now. He's on a healthy diet of berries that has filled out his figure. His fur is still horribly matted, but there isn't anything to be done about that when he's still terrified of humans.

Hatterene would hate this, Bede thinks in wry amusement. The amount of unease in this room would make her go on a rampage. Luckily, he’s isolated her in a section of Glimwood far from civilization, where she’d stay until she’s able to control her powers. Only then is she allowed to return to him. 

Bede leans back on the couch to watch him. Eevee's tail is lashing back and forth, hackles raised in agitation. 

It's hard to believe it was the same eevee that purred when he was pet, fur soft against his palm. Like Rapidash's fur, back when she was a ponyta and he was just another kid. He had loved to get into fights but was never good at winning them, and on days when the entire orphanage seemed against him, she would bear his frustration and anger without complaint, stay put as he screamed into her mane.

He fingers his watch, slipping all his fingers underneath the strap. Things have changed since then. Things are changing now. 

He’s so deep in thought that he didn’t notice Opal arriving home from her gym, the sudden slam of the door startling him. Bede pulls his turtleneck up to his nose and tries to play it cool as Opal walks in, carrying groceries. 

She looks at him and raises an eyebrow. ‘Care to help an old lady out?’

“Y-yeah. Yes, hold on.” He nearly trips on his way to her, and they unpack the groceries in silence. His hand has long scabbed over, and he can tell that Opal is looking at it. Judging. 

‘The eevee too much for you?’

Bede scoffs. “Nothing is too much for me, you should know that. I was actually just letting him out for some air before you came. He’s in the livi—” He glances around to find Kirlia twirling on the carpet alone. “Kirlia, where is he?” 

Kirlia trills; an image flashes in his mind’s eye, of a door—their door—ajar, the ambient light of the mushrooms pooling inside. 

Bede’s heart skips a beat. He grabs his jacket, sprinting past the open door and out into a waning twilight. A warm draft twirls around his ankles, but did nothing to suppress the shiver up his spine. 

“Eevee!” Bede yells, his voice cracking. He stamps down his embarrassment and tries again. “Eevee, come back!” 

There is no response. 

Why did he think that would work? Eevee doesn’t even like him. Eevee hates him, just like everyone else does. 

People are coming out to look at him now, people who know recognize him and know him as their beloved gym leader’s talented protege, not this desperate fool waking the whole town up looking for his lost pokemon. He straightens his expression, pushing all self-doubt into the back of his mind, tosses out a pokeball with the flourish he’s been tireless perfecting, as if his previous behavior was all for show. A fluke. 

Rapidash doesn’t make a sound as he mounts her, holding her chin up high as if to taste the last rays of sun. Bede fists her soft mane and tries not to hurt her. 

“Find Eevee.” He commands. Rapidash’s horn glows for a second—Bede is washed over by loneliness, by regret, by uncertainty, by an overwhelming sense of fear—before she breaks into a gallop, straight into the Glimwood Tangle. 

The Glimwood Tangle has a reputation for seeding doubt. The forest routes change every night, beaten paths twisting into dead ends and turnarounds then gone the next day, a labyrinth of maze and mirage. Maps are rendered completely null, and wayward wanderers have found themselves stranded for months on end, their surroundings shifting around them. Not even Ballonlea's longtime residents can navigate Glimwood on their own.

To make it out alive, you must trust the fae, and trust them unconditionally. The residents of Glimwood—hattrem stalking beyond the branches, snarl-toothed morgrem with their hoards of sharp-clawed impidimps, sinistea shards sharp underfoot—sense the ways of the forest innately, in ways humans never will. There are rules (Never let out a steel type, never make a trade a faerie, never eat or drink anything other than what is offered. You may give gifts, but never expect or imply you expect repayment), but generally most of them would rather humans leave their home as fast as possible than play pranks on the lost. 

Bede lets his rapidash lead the way. One of the perks of being a faerie-type trainer in Bellonlea, he supposes, is that he doesn’t have to rely on the locals for help. Rapidash is more steadfast than all of Glimwood’s residents combined. 

Dusk settles in the forest’s elongated shadows. The bioluminescent mushrooms pulse with a light of their own, green foxfire illuminating a winding trail off the beaten path. It drops off at a steep incline; as Rapidash begins her slow descent, Bede strokes her neck and lets out a breath he doesn’t realize he was holding. 

There’s a whine in the bushes when Bede dismounts. Eevee is cowering in the shadows, face dusty with dirt, ruff tangled in thorns. He looks scared, so scared, the hunch in his form like he’s ready to break if Bede so much as touched him. 

“Eevee,” Bede says. Eevee backs away and it hurts him more that he’d admit, that his pokemon would rather stay stranded in an unfamiliar place than be near him. 

He slumps down onto the damp ground. Closes his eyes. Breathes in the heady scent of the forest that he’s come to know like a second skin. It’s quiet enough that he can hear Eevee’s harsh breathing, the susurrus of his own heartbeat. Mushrooms dot the trees like little stars, mapping constellations on a canopy sky. 

His adrenaline is giving way to a deep-seated weariness in his bones. Bede’s always been a fighter. He fought his way out of the orphanage, fought his way into an endorsement, fought and won his gym badges fair and square. It’s given him a unique perspective on how privileged his current life is, how far he’s come to get it and how hard he needs to work to maintain it. Hop had never understood that; he’s piggy-backed off other people’s fame, special unbeatable champion’s brother that he is. 

He tries so much and he tries so hard, but carrying the image he’s built for himself is so, so exhausting, and during times like when he’s left with nothing but his pokemon for company, he wonders if his high hopes are a blessing or a burden. 

The once calming silence is now pressing onto him, almost claustrophobic, and he breaks it so he doesn’t feel alone. “I was like you once, you know.” 

“I have no idea who my parents are. As far as I can remember, they didn’t want me and just...left me. In an orphanage. None of the other kids wanted to be around me, and my caretakers hated me. My...my fault, I guess. Some of them tried, but I never wanted to get along with any of them, and eventually none of them wanted to get along with me.”

It’s kind of refreshing to say it out loud, almost like a breath of fresh air. Bede fiddles with the collar of his jacket uncomfortably. 

“The thing is, all the other kids had friends, and they didn’t play fair. When we fought, it was always me against two or more kids, and everyone was cheering for the other side. I just fought alone.” 

“But you know what, Eevee? Someone—Chairman Rose, you probably don’t know who he is—he saw the potential in me like no one else had, and took me in, introduced me to pokemon battling and endorsed me. He gave me a second chance, and I proved to him that I deserved it.” 

( _You didn’t_ , a nagging voice at the back of his head whispers, one that speaks of broken monuments and mistakes, Rose’s pained expression as the world fractures around him. Bede forces it away. He’s changed.)

“Now I battle with my team. You’ve seen Kirlia earlier, and Rapidash here can get you out of this forest if you trust her.” At this, Eevee peeks out from the undergrowth, suddenly interested. Good timing too; Bede was afraid the pokemon had left and he’s been speaking to thin air for the past ten minutes. “Yes, exactly. I’m not asking you to trust everybody—hell, even I don’t trust people for anything—but I’m letting you know that it’s okay to trust us. I’m still fighting, and you will too, but it’s a lot easier when a teammate has your back.” 

Bede slowly stands up and reaches for a hanging toadstool. It glows bright magenta, shedding off enough light that he see eevee now: standing just outside the undergrowth, eyes wide in wonder. 

“What do you think?” Bede asks. Rapidash trots around the area, faerie dust floating in her wake. He sits down again. Eevee’s moving into the open, looking as if he’s ready for something. The ambient glow from the mushrooms dyes his fur a soft pink. 

_(‘Now that’s what I call pink!’)_

Eevee takes a step towards him. Then another. 

_I’ll make you proud, Opal. I’ll prove I deserve to be gym leader._

He extends out his hand, still scabbed with bite marks, and Eevee meets him halfway.


	2. I did not fall from grace

‘Mind the shingles!’ Opal calls from below, ‘There’s also some moss over there, be sure not to slip—ah, too late. Try not to fall, child.’ 

Bede just barely manages to heave himself back on the rooftops before he slips off the edge. _The old woman is losing brain cells in her age._ His arms are sore, his knees scraped, and yet Opal insists on making him and Eevee scramble across the steep Ballonlea roofs while her togekiss fires air slashes off like a madman. 

Speaking of the bloody bastard. He sees a shadow come over him and jumps, just in time to avoid a pressurized blade of air that breaks the shingles he stood on just a second ago into smithereens. He hopes his neighbors don’t mind a little property damage. 

“Eevee, now’s your chance!” He calls. Eevee runs up in a pattering of paws and launches himself off Bede’s back, aiming an iron tail at Togekiss. 

The attack didn’t connect, but Togekiss veers off track to avoid it and disappears further away. At Eevee’s insistence, Bede forces himself on his feet and jumps onto the giant mushrooms sprouting beside the building. 

He’s a little bit short, but Eevee hits him with a light slam that sends them both sprawling onto the mushroom. It sways precariously underneath him but doesn’t collapse. 

‘Careful, dear.’ Does he actually hear _amusement_ in her voice? Is she entertained by this? ‘If either you or eevee touch the ground before reaching your destination, you automatically forfeit. Then we’ll have to try again tomorrow, just like we did yesterday.’ 

The pokemon center is close now, enough that Bede can make out the two hattrem that always roost on its eaves. The path is connected by a line of mushroom caps, big enough to support his and Eevee’s weight but not wide enough for much moving room. 

Which is a problem, Bede realizes, as Togekiss rounds the corner yet again. If she attacks him, he won’t be able to avoid it. 

“Follow her movements! Don’t think about me, just find the best vantage point you can climb on and be ready to shoot swifts!” Eevee follows his orders with almost feverish vigor, leaping from mushroom to mushroom until he’s perched on one that overlooked the rest. Togekiss won’t let Bede anywhere near the pokemon center as long as she’s airborne, so he’d have to faint her if he wants to finish. Eevee, however, can dodge and hit with long ranged attacks. Separating him and Eevee is risky, but he hopes his pokemon will be enough of a diversion that she doesn’t even think to attack him. 

It works; the next time Togekiss appears behind a tree, she heads straight for eevee. 

But Eevee isn’t attacking. He’s looking frantically around, staring at Bede as if he’s the one that knows the pokemon moves. Togekiss moves in for a hit, and Eevee yelps as he’s slammed bodily into a tree, catching himself on the trunk before he can fall to the ground. 

Togekiss dives after him, and Bede is forced to reveal his hiding spot as he shouts a warning. “Eevee watch out! Use swift!” 

Jagged cuts appear on Togekiss’s wings and belly, causing her to screech in surprise. Bede seizes the moment. 

“Now, last resort!” 

Last resort is a new move that Eevee’s learned, recently enough they haven’t had the time to go through it. But what’s a trainer that doesn’t believe in his pokemon? Bede trusts Eevee to at least be able to execute it. 

Eevee, however, has some doubts.

He hesitates. Looks at Bede, then hesitates again. Togekiss is recovering, coming for him, and Eevee’s just _staring_. 

His frustration blows over into a vicious snarl. “Dammit Eevee, when I say ‘jump’, you don’t wait for me to say how high! Just land the bloody last resort!” 

Eevee does. 

He does it so badly that Bede’s half convinced Togekiss moved so she’d be in the path and pretended to faint, just out of pity. But she does, falls to the ground in an almost comical slump, and crawls away to roost her health back. Bede makes his way to where Eevee is, and Eevee’s staring with those large, mournful eyes of his. 

“What?” He snaps, and Eevee _flinches_ , ears flat and terrified like the day they’d first met. 

Bede realizes that his fists are clenched so hard the skin is white, and both hattrem are now staring at him with baleful eyes. He’s scary. He’s scaring Eevee. 

“Sorry, I—” _Got carried away_ , but the apology feels tasteless on his tongue so he focuses on relaxing instead. “I’m calm now. Let’s get down.” 

He carries Eevee the rest of the way, and Opal is waiting for him when they arrive at the Pokemon Center. His mawile, a peppy little thing, follows with a first-aid kit, and Opal helps Bede into a chair as Eevee is sent to be healed. 

‘If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the first person who’s done this.’ Opal says as she watches Bede treat his injuries (she had offered to help, but he’s so embarrassed about turning up at the pokemon center looking like he got caught in a pack of Bewear that having Opal tend to him would just be salt on the wound). ‘I put Leon through this too. Granted, this was after he became champion, but the boy still fell in the first five minutes from when he left the gym.’

She hands him the gauze (“Opal, I can get it myself.” ’Call me Gran and I’ll let you.’). ‘You, however? You’re the only one to complete that test. You're quick-witted, held out like he never did. I’m proud of you, child.’

Nobody’s ever told him that, and her words send a flutter of emotions through Bede: a warm feeling in his chest, lightness in his head, pressure against his lungs, a sensation of heaviness that tells him he needs to try harder to uphold her standards. 

Opal is looking at him, like she wants to say something more. 

Chairman Rose's face flashes in his mind's eye, and Bede turns away so she knows the conversation is over. Not now, he's not ready. Not after the last one.

He’s tired. 

“You shouldn’t have ever doubted my abilities in the first place.”

* * *

“Opal, my watch isn’t working anymore.” 

Bede frowns at he fiddles with the dial on his watch, which fails to get the clock hands going. The glass is chipped, the strap so muddy that it didn’t even look gold anymore. As much as he’d like to believe it had gotten beaten up after an intense battle where he eventually came out on top, it wasn’t true; his watch had simply slipped off his wrist to crack on a hard stone when he was on his way home. 

‘Good riddance, it’s about time. I don’t know why you insist on wearing that piece of junk when you check time on your rotom-phone.’

“It’s a Rolycolex! And Rotom phones don’t work on most routes and wild areas, so it’s good to have backup.” 

‘Then get one that actually fits your wrist. You might as well have worn it as a bloody belt with how big it is.’

“That’s not the point!” He tries and fails to disguise his desperation. Chairman Rose had given it to him, the same day he gave him a second chance at building a better life. To lose it would be losing part of himself. “It’s a gift, and it’s…important to me. Is there anywhere I can go to get it fixed?” 

Opal’s mulling it over. He’s pretty sure she knows exactly who gifted Bede the watch, and doesn’t appreciate it, but she would also rather not make Bede upset. Luckily, Bede knows how to turn the tides in his favor.

“Please, Gran?” 

Opal relents. ‘I know a jeweller in Hammerstoke that can fix your watch. There’s a meeting soon and I want you to come, but afterwards we can fly there and get it fixed. Please bring one of your pokemon to represent you, there may be paparazzi.' She sighs. ‘Now get ready before I change my mind.’ 

As part of his gym training, Opal brings him to her meetings to get a sense of the bureaucratic side of the gym leader’s job, complete with representatives from other gyms (the Stow-on-Side one doesn’t seem to like him). He’s not allowed to say much in them, however, so most of the time he just sits there twiddling his thumbs and dreaming of better ways to spend his afternoon. If anything, it’s good training for patience and restraint. 

He sets his watch down on his bedside table, along with his old magenta coat, before going and fetching his uniform. Eevee had been sleeping on his bed—he’s usually out of his pokeball and wandering around nowadays, though never near the Glimwood Tangle—but he wakes up and makes a beeline for Bede’s heels, rubbing against them as he purrs softly. 

Bede bends down to scratch his ears. With his fear of Bede was gone, Eevee has turned out to be surprisingly clingy. He wonders if he’s ever gotten any affection from his last trainer. He seems almost desperate for it, as if the object of his affections would run away if he didn’t act immediately, constantly. 

“I’m going to a meeting now, you want to come with?” 

Eevee trills an affirmative. 

Bede blinks, taken aback. He half-expected Eevee to say no; he hates loud and strange places, and is still wary of other people apart from Bede. 

“Really?” 

Eevee purrs and nods vigorously against his palm.

Huh. 

“Well,” he says, moving his hand down to scratch the pokemon’s chin, “Stay here then. I’ll run to the bathroom for grab bathing supplies, so we can do a quick cleaning session on the way there.”

Eevee hates baths; he knows this from experience. But today he seems determined to accompany Bede to this meeting, because he jumps onto the bed and sits there expectantly. Bede gives him one last pat before heading out. 

As he heads to the bathroom, doubts start racing through his head. Eevee didn’t deal well with crowds, and there was going to be paparazzi at the meeting. What if it was too much for him? What if he freaked? What if he ran away? 

He could imagine the rumors that would rise: Bede couldn’t train his pokemon right. Bede isn’t a true trainer, isn’t gym leader material. 

It would destroy his reputation, something he’s fought so hard to uphold. 

Barbed words, spoken from faceless children: _Bede deserves his disqualification._

He finds himself back in his room, slamming the door open with a little too much force and startling Eevee. Kirlia would hate this, she’s always been a stickler for honesty, but Kirlia isn’t here and Bede’s never been much for transparency. 

“Change of plans. Apparently the meeting doesn’t want anyone bringing pokemon, so you’ll have to stay here.” 

Eevee’s ears droop, but he buys into his lie with a sad croon.

“You’ll be fine.” Bede pats his head and jokes, “Don’t destroy the house while I’m gone, okay?” 

Overall, the meeting is a bore, just some dumb bureucratic posturing and a property damage complaint that Bede lets Opal handle. He brings along Rapidash, and immediately regrets it; she senses something was wrong and ended up standing unusually close beside him the entire time, looking at him with a condescending stare. Luckily the paparazzi was canceled, so there won’t be any incriminating pictures of the whole affair.

It feels strange without the weight of the watch settling on his wrist, to have to refrain from checking the ground periodically to see if it fell off. Oddly light, as if a weight has been taken from his shoulders. 

What’s the worse, though, is the guilt settling deep in his gut. He strung Eevee along. Promised trust, then lied. Minor, yes, but that’s how the dominos fall. Eevee didn’t deserve this. 

( _You deserve this._ The sleek shape of the Rose Tower, the almost hypnotic ebb of those elevator lights. How he never realised he’d been afraid of heights until that day he leaned over the sky-high balcony and saw the long way down.)

(He sometimes still feels it—dizzy, chest tight and breathless—as if he’s fallen, still falling.)

‘A request for Mr. Bede, if I may,’ Macro Cosmos’s representative, a petite woman with the same logo Bede has on his jacket emblazoned on her uniform, interjects. Bede sees Opal’s wizened hands tighten almost imperceptibly on her cane. ‘The Chairman wanted to let you know that the Stow-on-Side, ah, incident has long blown over with barely any negative publicity. In fact, after the site was demolished, a researcher was able to uncover a piece of Galar’s history that has remained hidden for centuries.’

‘Due to your contribution to Galar, he’s willing to re-sponsor you for the gym challenge. We’ll even pull some strings so you’ll continue right where you left off, as long you keep your profile low.’

For once, Bede is at a loss for words. Chairman Rose...wants him back? 

“I…”

He’s even more surprised when Opal loses her cool, standing up with a white-knuckled grip on the table. ‘Rose isn’t in the position to be making these requests, after what he’s done to the poor boy.’

“Opal, l—”

‘Ma’am, with all due respect, the Chairman needs to keep up with appearances. He never wanted to disqualify Bede, but he was forced to in order to maintain his public reputation—’ 

‘Well tell him to stick his reputation up his arse, because if he wants to make himself look like a philanthropist the least he can do is commit to it—’

“Stop it! I’m. Right. Here.” Bede slams his hands against the table, drawing everyone’s attention. He doesn’t know what to make of Opal’s ferocity, her motherly protectiveness, but what he does know is that she shouldn’t be talking over him. “Rose’s offer is for me, is it not? I’ll be deciding whether or not I accept.” 

The room is silent. Rapidash whinnies and paces tersely behind Bede. He reaches to rub his right wrist, only to realize his watch isn’t there. 

_If he wants to make himself look like a philanthropist..._

Chairman Rose uses him. Bede’s not stupid; he’s known he was more pawn than person to the man, the moment he signed that endorsement agreement. 

But back then, Chairman Rose had offered him an opportunity out of the dredges of the orphanage, and he’d taken it despite the gamble. He didn’t care if the Chairman saw him as family or not, because as long as he tried hard, worked harder, and gathered those wishing stones, Chairman Rose would never have a reason to leave him. 

Things are different now, though. He has a stable future he can work towards, as the next fairy gym leader. He has a mentor in Opal, who is patient and caring and is willing to stand up for him even though he never asked for it. He has Hatterene, Rapidash, Kirlia, Mawile, Eevee...

He has a home, here in Ballonlea. 

“If I ever enter again as a challenger,” He sees Opal shift apprehensively from the corner of his eye, and is struck with a strange urge to hold her shoulder, reassure her, “I’ll do it myself on my own terms, without the Chairman’s help. Tell the chairman he has my thanks. Without him, I don’t know where I would be. However, I'll be declining his offer.” 

The representative nods. ‘As you wish, sir.’ 

With that, the meeting is adjourned. 

The ride back home on Rapidash’s back is painstakingly uncomfortable, with neither Bede or Opal willing to talk about what happened. He misses Hatterene deeply; whenever she gets overwhelmed, she would teleport herself and him away. 

'Good work handling that nagging stunfisk,' Opal says, and it takes Bede a couple seconds to realize she was talking about the representative. ‘A lot of gym leader responsibilities involve negotiation, and it pays to have a level head.’ 

“Thank you.” 

They crest over a hill in silence. 

He hears an audible huff from Opal. ‘I’m going to ask you a question, Bede. And you’re going to answer it honestly—none of the dodging, masking, or lying you always do.’

Opal never addresses him by his name. He doesn’t like where this is going. “Fine.” 

‘Do you really want the gym leadership?’ 

“Of course I do. Why do you think I don’t?”

‘Because you haven’t had much of a choice in this.’ Opal murmurs, ‘I admit I was, ah, a bit forceful in enlisting you as my successor.’

‘But I want to remind you that I won’t force you or use you for my own gain. Rose...he shouldn’t have done the things he did. You’re free to leave, if you so desire. Just let me know beforehand so I could find another successor.’

* * *

When Bede walks into his house, he’s surprised to find that Eevee is nowhere to be seen. 

“Hey, Eevee? Don’t tell me you ran into the forest again.” 

Usually Eevee’s an enthusiastic greeter, fond of rubbing at his heels and trilling incessantly. He sheds his coat and enters his room. 

It’s a mess. 

There’s little golden shards strewn everywhere, springs and gears dotting the floorboards like fairy dust. It isn’t until he sees the watch missing from its place on his bedstand that he pieces together what happened. 

A whimper rises from under his bed. Bede kneels under it to find Eevee, ears flat and pressed against the corner like day one all over again. He’s gotten scratched from the shattered glass that’s sticking through his paws, blood staining the floor and why can’t he leave him alone without someone getting hurt and—

_(‘I’m disappointed,’ Chairman Rose says, after Bede destroyed the site. The shrapnel had cut into his skin; blood welled warm and sticky as he stood there, ashamed. )_

Rose couldn’t control him anymore.

Bede surprises himself by laughing. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I doubt that watch was genuine anyways.” _We all make mistakes sometimes._ “You didn’t do anything wrong, come out so I can treat your paws.” 

Words can’t make someone like Eevee open up, but Bede has time on his side tonight. Eventually he lets him spritz his wounds with super potion, and they clean up the room together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story hasn't aged well for me, mostly because both my perception of Bede and my writing style have changed since I first decided to write this . But for what it's worth, I'll try to finish what I started


End file.
